A World Without Clark Kent
by Ruby Rosetta Red
Summary: Complete. This is kind of 'A Wonderful Life', Smallville style!. It's Christmas in Smallville. What would life in Smallville be like if Clark Kent never existed?. This was written for Christmas 2004, which will explain why some aspects of the fic may seem
1. Chapter 1

A World Without Clark Kent.

Chapter One:

Christmas was supposed to be the season to be jolly, so why didn't Clark Kent feel the same? It was his first trip home from Metropolis U. College life was great, playing football was even better and the studies, while a chore, were a breeze, the benefit of having a photographic memory. He walked down Smallville's Main Street, hands buried deep in the pockets of his padded jacket, immune to the large snowflakes floating down to earth in their usual timeless manner. Snow lay thick on the ground and his boots made a crunching sound as he walked. This town held so many memories for him. Some good, some bad. He lifted his head and saw the crowds of last minute Christmas shoppers and he smiled to himself. His mom would be organised and ready now, she always was. She didn't like the hassle or the stress of battling her way through the hoards of festive shoppers. They hadn't had much money whilst he was growing up, but his parents had been determined to show him the true value of Christmas. He remembered the first time they'd decorated the tree and he'd sat beneath the heavy green pine branches and stared up at the vision of light and sparkles in utter awe. Of going to church and listening to the carols, not understanding a word of it, but listening all the same. The Christmas Story which his mom read to him every Christmas Eve without fail and the whole magic of Santa Claus. As he'd gotten older, some of the magic still remained, the tree decorating, the Christmas carols, and the Christmas story. It would be a tradition he'd like to continue should he ever get the chance to be a father himself. His thoughts darkened again. For all that his parents loved him, that his friends would put their lives on the line for him, he always had the feeling that he'd be alone. His destiny was proof of that.

He looked up and saw the Talon sign shining amidst the snow that was falling and he felt a smile drift across his face. It was closing time soon and he was here as his mother's escort to make sure that she got back home safe and sound. She didn't know that he was home from college yet so he looked forward to surprising her. A door beside the coffee shop opened and a couple stumbled out onto the street, arms around each other, huddled up against the inclement weather. Clark had to do a quick side shuffle to avoid colliding into them. One of them turned their head to look at him and something froze inside of Clark when he recognised Lana. Her own eyes widened in surprise as she recognised him.

"Clark!" he forced himself to smile, trying to ignore the sight of seeing Jason's arm around her shoulders, ignoring just how that made him feel.

"Hey Lana" he replied, his fists clenching in the confines of his jacket pockets.

"I didn't realise you were back in Smallville" Clark shrugged his shoulders.

"Back for Christmas, that's all. How are things with you?" he glanced at Jason as he looked down at Lana and the pair exchanged a look, like they shared a delicious secret.

"Things are very good at the moment…in fact…" another shared look and all of a sudden Lana whipped out her left hand. For a second he stared at it dumbly and it was when she wiggled her fingers almost expectantly that he noticed the diamond ring sparkling there. He swallowed as sick shock flooded through him. Lana and Jason were engaged?

"You're the first to know," she told him, her voice tight with all the excitement of a prospective bride-to-be. He smiled, he had to otherwise he wasn't sure how he'd really react.

"Wow. Congratulations!" he went towards her and hugged her. His eyes briefly closed as she wrapped her arms around his neck. He caught the drift of her perfume, felt the soft silkiness of her hair against his cheek and she was gone again. Clark straightened and looked at Jason and offered his hand.

"Congratulations… I hope you'll both be very happy" he said the words as if by rote. Jason took his hand and shook it. He was watching Clark's expression with a carefulness that didn't settle easy with the younger man.

"Thank you, that means a lot" he replied. Clark smiled again and shoved his hands back into his jacket pockets.

"Well, I'd better go and meet my mom, she'll be waiting for me" he told them.

Lana hugged him again, pressed a kiss against his icy cold cheek.

"Okay. Merry Christmas Clark" she whispered.

"Merry Christmas Lana" he murmured in reply. They said their goodbyes and he watched the happy couple disappear into the swarm of shoppers. This was the happiest day of Lana's life, she was going to marry a man who would love her and cherish her and never ever lie to her and he should feel glad that she'd found that special someone in Jason Teague but God why did it have to hurt so much?


	2. Chapter 2

bChapter Two/b

He pushed open the door into the Talon. The familiar scents of coffee, cinnamon, apples and chocolate assaulted his senses. His eyes sought out his mother and he saw her behind the counter, serving last cups of coffee to go. There were only a couple of tables left occupied. He walked towards the counter, briefly forgetting the pain of Lana and Jason's engagement, his attention centred on his mother. She lifted her head as she gave change to a customer and it was then she caught sight of him. Her eyes widened momentarily in surprise before a big smile lit up her face. She rounded the counter and ran towards him.

"Clark! You're home! When did you get back?" she gasped, holding her only child to her.

"This afternoon" he told her. She looked up at him.

"And you're home for Christmas?" he nodded and the smile, if possible, bloomed larger.

"I'm so glad to hear that. What are you doing here? Why aren't you catching up with your friends?"

"Pete is in Wichita, Chloe is in Metropolis and spending the season with her cousin, and Lana…" his voice trailed away and Martha saw the sadness in his blue-green eyes.

"What about Lana?" Clark sighed.

"I just saw her. She and Jason are engaged," he told her, depression weighing his voice down. Martha's eyes darkened with sympathy.

"Oh sweetheart" she murmured. Clark glanced at her.

"I know, I know… I was the one who kept her at arm's length because I thought I was protecting her, but when she told me… something inside of me just…died I guess" he felt his mother's hand slide into his and squeeze it gently.

"You knew this would happen one day Clark" she reminded him and he nodded, his eyes downcast.

"I guess it just brought it home to me that I'm destined to be alone"

"You don't know that Clark, I firmly believe that there is someone out there for you," He sighed.

"I just always thought that it'd be Lana that's all" he answered in a low voice.

The Talon was empty now, the ensuing silence a blessing. Clark helped his mother clear the tables, load the industrial sized dishwasher in the kitchen and act as general all round dogsbody. He could use super speed to get it all done in a fraction of the time it normally took, but tonight he felt like taking his time, the mundane-ness of the task a balm for his aching heart and depressed thoughts.

He came out of the kitchen as he heard his mother tell someone that they were closed.

"We're not here for coffee," the voice snarled in response. He heard his mother gasp and the click of a loaded shotgun. He was at his mother's side in an instant.

"What do you want?" he demanded, moving surreptitiously so to stand in front of his mother.

"What do you think?" he used to muzzle of the gun to indicate the till. Clark used the opportunity to grab the gun. He gasped as he felt the blood in his veins begin to fizzle and pop…kryptonite? Where? Then comprehension dawned, the gun…there had to be kryptonite in the gun. The radiation sent sharp waves of prickling pain through his entire system, making his nerve endings stretch and scream for relief. Nausea bubbled in his stomach and his knees threatened to give.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" the prospective thief yelled and pushed Clark away. Weakened by the kryptonite, Clark went down.

"Clark!" Martha screamed and dropped to her knees, wrapping her arms around her son's shoulders. She flinched as the gun's muzzle stopped a millimetre away from the side of her head.

"There's no need for anyone to play superhero here, just give me the cash!" Clark opened his eyes and looked at him. The guy was scrawny, had an underfed look about him and his eyes were filled with desperation. He wanted to feel a modicum of sympathy for him, but not while he had that gun pressed up against his mother's head. He groaned quietly as fresh pain assaulted him and nausea rose once more.

"Do it mom," Clark whispered. Martha glanced down at him before slowly getting to her feet. The thief kept the shotgun trained on Clark as Martha went to the till as ordered. Clark knew his attention wasn't one hundred percent on him. Heat vision would make him drop the weapon for sure, but Clark was so weakened by the kryptonite in the gun, he suspected it was in the bullets, that he wasn't sure he'd be successful or even do it in time. His vision blurred slightly and he shook his head.

"Better hurry up, your boy doesn't look very well," the thief taunted. Clark felt anger begin to burn inside of him.

"Here's your damned money!" Martha hissed and threw it across the counter.

Everything then seemed to happen in slow motion. Dollar bills rained down on Clark as enraged the thief levelled the shotgun at his mother. Clark immediately felt slight relief as the radiation pain eased enough to allow him to stagger to his feet. He lunged towards the thief, who spun around and fired. The sound of the gun exploding was deafening. Clark felt something canon into his chest. It knocked him several feet backwards and he crashed up against the counter and slid downwards until he stopped. His eyes widened and he gasped loudly as the kryptonite bullet pulverised bone and tore through flesh. He heard someone screaming his name, but it sounded like it was coming from underwater. He turned his head slightly as a face came into view. He recognised his mom's red hair, still so bright with hardly a sign of grey. Her green eyes were wide and panic stricken. She touched his face, called his name, it was funny but he could barely hear her, couldn't feel her touch. Another face came into view behind her. He looked at her. She seemed to shine with an ethereal glow, almost as if from inside. Her eyes were pure blue and her hair was corn gold and long. He couldn't take his eyes off her. She smiled gently at him.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three:

The blackness, when it came lasted mere nanoseconds. The next thing that he remembered was that he was standing up. He also felt no pain. He spun around and saw himself lying on the floor, the front of his shirt soaked in blood. His mother knelt over him and she was sobbing his name. His face was white, almost grey, his eyes wide with what looked like shock. He watched his mother rip open his shirt and he frowned a little in distress when he saw the gaping hole there, veins of green emanating from the wound, which still pumped blood. Unconsciously he touched his chest and then turned around again. He blinked when he saw the blonde woman standing a couple of feet away from him, just observing him.

"What's going on? Am I dead?" he looked at himself over his shoulder and he had to admit, it was the weirdest thing ever to see himself like that.

"Not yet. But you soon will be. It's the kryptonite" He looked at her in shock.

"How do you know what it's called?" he demanded. The woman smiled mysteriously.

"You'd be surprised how much I know about you" Clark frowned.

"What's going on? Who the hell are you?" he demanded again. The woman regarded his face.

"In your darkest hours I hear your thoughts Clark. Of how you think that life would be so much easier if you had never arrived on Earth. Well I'm here to show you that"

"Who are you?" she didn't respond, instead she held out a hand.

"You need to come with me," she informed him calmly. Again he turned his head and looked at the scene in front of him.

"You need to hurry" the woman reminded him and he looked at her, still standing there, hand outstretched. Without a second thought, he took it.

In the blink of an eye and they were standing in the centre of a familiar kitchen. Clark turned around. Home, he was home. He looked at his companion

"This is home, what am I doing here?"

"This is the home of Jonathan Kent, or at least it was" she told him. He frowned at her in confusion.

"Was? This farm has been in the Kent family for three generations, I'm the fourth"

"No Clark, remember you don't exist. The Kent farm has been in the same family for three generations, until now. The bank is about to foreclose"

"What? That can't be possible!" Clark exclaimed. He turned his head as he heard slow heavy footsteps descend the staircase. It was his father. At least it looked like his father. His face was grey-white, his lips tinged blue. He moved like an old man, stopping at the bottom of the staircase to catch his breath, gasping air into tired lungs. His eyes were red-rimmed and tired looking and the clothes he wore were old, dirty, worn. Clark took a step back.

"It's alright, he can't see you" she told him and as if to prove a point, Jonathan shuffled past them both, never once noticing he had two unexpected guests in his kitchen.

"Where's my mom?" Clark demanded, looking frantically around the room, scared beyond belief at the sight of his father.

"She's in Metropolis Clark. She's a top lawyer at her father's firm" the woman told him. Clark gaped at her.

"A lawyer? Since when? She loves this farm, there'd be no way she'd leave it"

"The years of unexplained infertility took its toll Clark, the farm was failing, there was no money, she just couldn't take it anymore. Your parents divorced over ten years ago and Martha Kent went back to Metropolis"

"What's wrong with my dad?" he turned to see him sit at the kitchen table and bury his head in his hands. The blond hair was almost grey now. It shocked Clark to the core to see his father like this.

"Progressive heart disease. More than likely terminal" his companion informed him. Clark's eyes went wide at the revelation. She watched him stride over to where his father sat. He stood right in front of him.

"Dad!" he yelled. There was no response. Clark looked at her.

"He can't hear you Clark, remember, you don't exist" He didn't seem to hear her, he reached out to grab his shoulder, to shake him, to do something. Instead his hand passed right through him and he stared at his hand in white-faced shock. He looked at his companion again. She shrugged slightly.

"I did warn you," she murmured. She slowly walked around the bare kitchen, looking at everything with a studied carefulness.

"What happens to him?" Clark demanded. She stopped and looked at him.

"Why do you want to know?" she enquired.

"Just tell me!"

"He dies Clark. Alone. The hereditary heart complaint he suffers from finally claims him two weeks after Christmas. I believe his father passed the same way at the same age" Clark looked at Jonathan. Pain clenched in his chest that had nothing to do with the kryptonite bullet the thief had unloaded into his chest at the Talon…he looked up.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four:**

The Talon, it was like she had read his mind. Together they stood on the deserted sidewalk, snow still falling, and the temperature cold enough to pierce even his skin. Clark stared at the boarded up doors, the broken sign. It looked as though the place had been closed a long time judging by the age of the posters that had been taped on the boardings. He looked at his guide.

"Nell Porter sold the florist business and moved to Metropolis, after that the building closed down when a new buyer couldn't be found." She told him.

He felt uncomfortable being in this bedroom. Of course he'd often daydreamed of the possibility one day. He saw the girl hunched up on the bed, her knees tucked beneath her chin, her hands over her ears. An opened book lay cover up beside her and her eyes were scrunched tightly closed. Clark turned his head when he heard the yelling and screaming from downstairs. He then looked back at the girl on the bed.

"Lana?" he whispered in disbelief. She lifted her head slightly, her hands still covering her ears but Clark saw the tears streaking down her face. Below him the screaming stopped suddenly and he flinched when he heard the front door slam, its vibration rattling the windows. Lana scurried off the bed and ran to the window. Curiously, Clark followed. A man was striding down the path, getting into a beat up pick up truck and speeding away. Lana hiccupped out a sob.

"Daddy!" she whispered and then slipped down onto the floor. Clark could only stand there and watch her, dumbfounded. With all his heart all he wanted to do was reach down, help her to her feet and just hold her. But of course he couldn't do that, according to his companion, he just didn't exist. He watched Lana look up and he turned also as her bedroom door squeaked open and an older woman, a brunette like Lana came inside. She looked old, worn, tired and it took Clark a minute to recognise her as Laura Lang, Lana's mother, whom he'd only ever seen in a photograph. A shiver skidded up his spine. He watched her walk straight past him to sit down beside her daughter. Lana looked up at her, not bothering to hide her expression.

"He's gone hasn't he?….for good I mean?" Laura looked at her daughter's face for a long moment and then just nodded. She slipped her arm around Lana's shoulders and drew her close.

"I'm sorry sweetie," Laura murmured.

"He can't go, it's _Christmas!"_Lana hissed. Laura shrugged helplessly.

"This is all my fault" Lana told her, starting to get to her feet. Laura followed suit, frowning in puzzlement.

"How is it all your fault?" Lana spun around to glare at her mother.

"Because of Henry Small. He's my biological father and my dad can't accept that!" she accused. Clark's eyes widened. Laura seemed to falter under the arrows that were Lana's words, each one of them the absolute truth.

"That's true Lana, he can't accept that, but you know something? That's your dad's problem, not yours!" she replied stoically. Clark witnessed the scene, feeling like a voyeur. He turned to his companion.

"This is Lana?" she regarded the young woman before turning her attention to him. She nodded.

"She's such a shy, timid girl, prefers to stay out of the limelight and lose herself in her books"

"Well that part certainly hasn't changed, but timid? That's not Lana"

"Not the Lana you remember Clark…."

"I know, you don't need to keep reminding me… I don't exist" The woman's blue eyes were steady on his face.

"You're in love with her aren't you?" Clark looked at her, feeling his face warm with the beginnings of a blush.

"It doesn't matter how I feel, she's with someone else now" his companion regarded him.

"Not this Lana, Clark. While its true that she was a cheerleader, dated Whitney Fordman, she grieved badly over his death and never really got over him. Discovering that Henry Small was infact her biological father was the final straw. She clings to everyone for fear of abandonment. This is who she is and who she becomes" Clark listened to her while looking at Lana who was a pale, wraith-like figure. He watched her pace, wringing her hands, hating herself. He clenched his fists, wanting to pull her into his arms and hold her tight and promise her that he'd never leave her. He swallowed against the huge lump in his throat before looking at his guide.

"I've seen enough," he told her.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five:**

Cold and sterile, this was a place to stay not a place to live. It had all the personality of a hotel room. It took Clark a second to realise that he was in Metropolis. He turned his head when a door swung open and a woman strode in, a black leather briefcase in one hand, and a cell phone in the other. She wore a two-piece suit of emerald green that sent sparks through her shoulder length fiery auburn hair.

"Mom" Clark breathed, watching her dump the briefcase onto a sumptuous black leather sofa. Her cell phone began to trill and he watched her answer it.

"Hey dad, what's wrong?" Clark watched her kick off her shoes and lower herself into a chair, sighing quietly and wriggling her toes. She frowned.

"I've been chained to the office all day, I've literally just walked through the door. Can't this wait?" She sighed again, more forcefully.

"I can't do it, not tonight, please don't ask me" her voice became pleading and Clark frowned.

"What doesn't she want to do?" he looked at his companion who was regarding Martha intently. After a second she looked at Clark.

"The firm hold an annual Christmas party for the families of the staff who work for them, lawyers, associates, messengers, cleaners. They're all invited. Her father is asking her to host it and she doesn't want to" Clark looked back at his mother. He didn't care what his companion claimed; this woman was his mother in all but birth.

"Because she can't have children she feels uncomfortable being around them," he murmured.

"Precisely. But her father is a very persistent man, he always gets what he wants" Clark chose not to answer that, his maternal grandfather had made a choice not to get involved in his life and it still stung even now. Clark returned his attention to Martha, to see her put the cell phone onto the glass coffee table in front of her. She stared at it for a long moment before getting to her feet. She walked, barefoot to the huge picture window that afforded her a spectacular view of the twinkling lights of Metropolis. Clark just observed her. He glanced to his companion.

"She's going to do it isn't she? She's going to host the party for the kids" it was a statement rather than a question and beside him, she nodded.

"She always does what her father asks. She can't refuse him anything. And in a way she feels kind of beholden to him, he told her that Jonathan Kent would have nothing to offer her and he was right, he didn't" Clark looked at her.

"He loved her, still loves her" he argued.

"Love wasn't enough Clark, all Martha wanted, still wants, is a child to hold and love and call her own"

"That's not my dad's fault. They told me that nobody knew why they couldn't have kids, it was just one of those things" his guide just looked at him, her blue eyes pure and unblinking and Clark began to feel distinctly uncomfortable.

"It was enough to destroy their marriage Clark" he sighed and returned his attention back to Martha. He observed the way she stared sightlessly out of the window, not seeing the sparkling vista before her. He frowned when he saw the unshed tears in her eyes.

"She still loves him," he murmured. He felt his guide's hand on his and he looked at her.

"She won't defy her father again Clark," she informed him gently and he knew that she was right.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six:**

"Where are we now?" Clark asked. The corridor was long, narrow and blinding white in colour. Fear skittered through Clark as he wondered if this was the tunnel that the dying claimed to see. She still held onto his hand, her grip gentle but secure at the same time. He had no option but to follow her. Gradually things came into focus and he looked around. Different things began to occur to him, the smell of the place, antiseptic, clean, clinical. As he walked along the corridor, he became aware of windows to either side of him, giving him glimpses into rooms. A bed, some essential furniture and medical equipment occupied each room. His guide paused by one window and Clark looked inside, still wondering where he was and what he was doing here. The bed was occupied by a man of less than thirty years of age, his body barely making an impression beneath the sheets. A white sheet covered him and a variety of machinery kept him alive. Clark's companion took his hand and instantly they were in the room with him. The occupant of the bed seemed so pale, his pallor melting in against the bright whiteness of his bedclothes. His hair was like a beacon though, bright coppery red. Clark scanned the face and then gasped when recognition hit him with shocking brutality. He looked at his companion in comprehension.

"This is Lex?"

She came to stand beside him and look down at the man lying on the bed. He lay effigy-like, his skin so pale that it looked as though it was carved in marble. It was the hair that had thrown him; it was cut short, kept neat. Lex lost his hair in the meteor strike. He looked back to her.

"There was no meteor strike Clark," she gently reminded him and he wondered how she was able to read his thoughts like that. He returned his attention to Lex. The barest life support kept him functioning, he just looked as though he was sleeping but Clark knew that it was much more than that.

"What happened to him?"

"He drove his Porsche off a bridge just outside of Smallville. Nobody knows how long he was under the water but his brain was starved of oxygen and he's been comatose ever since" she replied. Clark looked back at him.

"Because I wasn't there to save him" his voice was flat.

"Not your fault Clark" her voice was quiet, sympathetic and he looked at her.

"I caused the meteor strike. Because of me Lana lost her parents, more people died and even more have suffered the effects of the kryptonite"

"And people are still suffering now Clark, without you there to save them. You're not there and they still suffer, look at Martha and Jonathan, Lana, Lex even. With you in their lives they are stronger people. The meteors changed their lives in unimaginable ways but in no way was that your fault, there were no possible means to predict that this would happen" Clark just looked at her.

"You don't believe me, do you?" she took a step towards him and took one of his hands. He looked down, her hand was small, the skin soft, opalescent.

"You've seen them Clark, you've seen what their lives are like without you, are they any better? No they're not. At least with you in it, doing the good that you do then there's hope" Clark sighed and opened his mouth to speak but she placed an index finger over his lips.

"One last place to visit" she told him. He just looked at her and tightened his grip on her hand.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven:**

The place was oddly familiar to him and at the same time it made him uneasy. There was restlessness in the air, an undercurrent almost. He turned his head and paused as if listening.

"You sense it don't you?" she murmured. He looked at her, frowning. He sensed something; he just wasn't sure what it was.

"The torment. The air is heavy with it" A shiver crawled down Clark's spine. That was it exactly, torment. He could only nod.

"This way" she told him.

The corridor was bare, it reminded him of the hospital where Lex was. Clinical, emotionally dead. There was nobody around but he could hear the moans, the cries and it scared him rigid.

"Where are we?" he asked, his voice sounding obscene in the silence. She looked at him.

"Belle Reve." The mental institution, in another lifetime it had been Lex's private hell. Clark inhaled deeply. Why were they here of all places? He felt her squeeze his hand and he glanced sharply at her. It was scant comfort and again Clark felt a little weirded out that she seemed to be tuned into the private recesses of his mind.

"We're here" They were in a rectangular shaped room with only a bolted down bed for company. Again he was reminded of Lex. The lighting was subdued. He looked around, it seemed to be empty. He looked questioningly at his guide.

"She's over there," she murmured. Clark frowned again and slowly turned. _She?_

She was in the far corner of the room, crouching down and curled into a tight ball. All he could see was that she had blonde hair. He couldn't see her face, didn't recognise her and he wondered why he'd been brought here. A low humming seemed to vibrate through the atmosphere. It took Clark a second to realise that it came from her. He took a couple of steps towards her. Her head shot up and Clark faltered to a stop, unable to believe just who he was looking at.

_"Chloe?"_he breathed in absolute horror. Her green eyes were wide, panic-stricken almost.

"Oh God…Chloe" he whispered and felt the burn of emotion in his throat. He took another step towards her and stopped again when her seemingly unfocused gaze fixed on him.

"Who are you? Where did you come from?" she demanded in an uptight voice. Clark turned and looked at his companion. All he got was a surreptitious shrug in return. He looked back at Chloe, his partner in crime at the Torch, his best friend. This was Chloe? His head just couldn't get itself around that fact.

"You can see me?" he asked cautiously. Chloe looked at him for a brief millisecond before her gaze slid away, anywhere but at him.

"They'll just tell me it's in my imagination. You're not real, they're never real" she pushed herself to her feet. All she wore was a knee-length white gown that looked three sizes too big for her. Her hair bore the hallmarks of being pulled at; it didn't look as though it had been combed in a long time.

"What happened to you?" Another quick, almost furtive glance into his eyes and it was gone. She inched past him and moved to the opposite corner of the room.

"Where's my dad? I want my dad? Why won't he come?" she looked at Clark expectantly as though he'd supply her with the answers. He turned to look at his guide. She came to stand beside him, watching Chloe, a look of deep sympathy in her eyes.

"Chloe has been an inmate in here for almost eighteen months now. Before that she had a promising journalistic career ahead of her. Then she crossed Lionel Luthor" Clark tipped his head to one side, absorbing the information that she was providing him with.

"Lionel Luthor?" she slowly nodded. She walked towards Chloe and stood in front of her, regarding her. Chloe was talking a mile a minute and the familiarity of that habit was particularly bitter sweet for Clark. None of it made any sense and it washed over him for a brief second.

"She came across damning information that he killed his parents and he was arrested. From behind bars he waged a campaign of terror against Chloe. He took everything from her, her way of life, her career, her home, her father and finally her sanity. The breakdown was comprehensive and she's been here ever since" For a second Clark closed his eyes, the lump in his throat grew even more intense as he remembered the sassy Torch reporter with the streak of fearlessness in her a mile wide that scared him silly sometimes. But she'd had the heart and spirit of a lion. He opened his eyes and realised that his vision was a little blurry.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight:**

"What happened to Lionel Luthor?" A faint smile crossed her lips.

"He died in prison before his case came to trial, liver disease. A Luthorcorp trust takes care of Lex's needs and medical bills" Some of the anger inside of him abated slightly.

"Who are you talking to?" Chloe demanded and Clark flinched at her abrasive tone. She strode towards him and for a second he saw the ghost of the old Chloe.

"Where's my dad? Do you know where he is?" she demanded and he could only stare helplessly at her.

"I don't know Chloe" he wanted to touch her but knew that he couldn't. She frowned fiercely.

"How do you know my name? What's your name?" Clark swallowed.

"My name is Clark"

"Clark. I need to find my dad. Can you help me? My dad will save me; he'll save me… he has to save me. I don't want to be here" her voice broke and she turned and walked back towards the wall. Clark looked back at his companion who just shook her head. She walked towards him.

"We have to leave now"

"I can't leave her" he looked back at Chloe, who'd slid down the wall again, muttering beneath her breath. The guide took Clark's hand.

"You have to. You can't help her"

"Maybe I can. Maybe I could find her dad?" She shook her head.

"Her father is dead Clark. She knows it. It's part of her psychosis, every person she meets she asks if they can find her father" Clark turned his head and looked at Chloe one last time.

"She won't leave here will she?"

"She's completely broken" his guide confirmed what he already knew.

"But she can see me" Her hand tightened on his.

"What she sees is a figment of her imagination, a delusion. You don't exist Clark, not in this world" Chloe looked up at him and she frowned.

"Are you leaving me Clark? Don't leave me, you have to find my dad" her voice rose as she scrambled to her feet a second time and walked towards him demanding, screaming, wanting and he hated the helplessness he felt even more.

They stood in the corridor and Clark watched Chloe, heard her screaming his name. He watched as two uniformed orderlies unlocked her door and went inside. It took them both to restrain her, to strap her to her bed with an easy proficiency that suggested to him that they'd done this with her before. She still screamed his name and it echoed around the inside of his head. He took a deep breath and took a singular step towards the room only to feel his guide's hand on his wrist. He looked at her, her expression was fierce.

"You can't help her Clark," she told him. Clark turned on her, angrier than he'd felt ever before in his life.

"You don't understand, she confided in me once… her mom is in a place like this. And she was always afraid that she'd end up the same, and she has!"

"And what you don't seem to understand is that in this reality Chloe never knew you, yes she found her mother and yes she found out about the mental issues her mother had but she didn't tell you, she couldn't, you didn't exist and you can't help her. You have to accept that!" she argued back. The fight went out of Clark then.

Clark looked around. Nothing. Just brightness. There was no floor, no ceiling, no beginning or ending. He looked to his guide.

"It's decision time Clark. Right now you're lying on the floor in that coffee shop, your life pouring out of you thanks to that kryptonite bullet. If you still feel that this world would still be a better place without you then so be it, you can die on that floor. The ones that love you will grieve over you but life goes on, as horrifying as it can get and as wicked as it will become, it will go on. Or you can have another chance" Clark frowned.

"At what?" she sighed.

"At living Clark. You have astounding abilities; you could put them to great use for the better of mankind. It doesn't have to end here" she watched the decision warring in his eyes.

"Is it such a hard choice to make? The good that you do? How much you could really help someone? It's who you are Clark, it's who you're meant to be"

"The good that I can do? What about me? What about my needs? I hate keeping these secrets, I hate the pain that they cause. There have been so many times that I've wanted to sit down with Lana, with Chloe and just tell them about me, the real me and share it with them" she frowned, listening to the anguish in his voice, feeling the pain in his soul. She looked up into his eyes.

"There'll be a day when you won't have to hide your true self Clark, there is someone out there for you, and she will understand and accept you for who you are better than you could ever hope for"

"You sound like my mother" he muttered and his guide smiled and moved towards him. She took both of his hands. He looked at her and her eyes were filled with something, he couldn't exactly see what but her smile was radiant, as if she understood.

"Your mother is a very wise woman, you'd do well to listen to her. She's right. There is someone out there, she's waiting for you"

"Who?" she took a step back, releasing her hold on him.

"I can't tell you that Clark, that's part of your life's journey if you choose to follow it, but you'll know. One day you will just know" Clark listened to her words. More than once on this freaky little journey he'd wondered how she'd known so much, about his life. She'd said she heard his darkest thoughts, but how exactly?

"Don't question Clark. Choose" her voice seemed to fill his head and he looked questioningly at her. She smiled.

"Who are you?" the smile didn't fade.

"You know who I am," she told him.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine:**

He was in the kitchen. For a second he stood there, completely disorientated. Then he realised that he was back at The Talon, loading up the dishwasher, right before the attempted robbery happened. Adrenaline coursed through him. He strode out of the kitchen and saw his mother behind the counter cashing up. She looked up.

"Finished loading the dishwasher already? That's quick even for you" she smiled and despite the situation, he allowed himself to smile briefly in return. He was back in Smallville.

"Just making sure I haven't forgotten anything" he walked through the main area, making out that he was checking all the tables even though he knew they were cleared. A shadow appeared at the door and Clark paused and stiffened. His heart thumped loudly in his chest. He turned and looked at his mother.

"Mom, I think I've got everything here, why don't you check in the kitchen just to make sure?" he suggested. The shadow at the door hadn't moved. Martha frowned.

"I'm cashing up, can't you do it?" Clark made himself smile at her.

"I can do that. Just humour me, okay?" Martha gave him a strange look and stopped what she was doing.

"Alright. But don't mess up, okay?"

"I won't. Thanks mom" He let out a sigh of relief as she disappeared from behind the counter into the kitchen. He turned his attention back to the door as it slowly opened. He'd have to remind his mom of the benefits of locking the door at closing time. He braced himself, he knew what was coming, and he knew what was in the gun.

He slid into view, his eyes observant, his manner careful but Clark recognised him instantly. Then he saw Clark standing there and he flinched, obviously startled. Clark watched him stand just inside of the door, his whole stance was awkward and Clark didn't need to use his X-Ray vision to know he carried a weapon, the radiation waves from the kryptonite emanated from him and he could feel his stomach begin to churn in protest.

"We're closed" Clark told him.

"I'm not here for the coffee" he walked towards him and started to pull something out from beneath his coat and it was at that moment in time that the door began to open again. The prospective thief turned. Clark recognised the blond head and his eyes widened.

"Dad!" he yelled and he dived. He caught his father around the waist and they both went down. The sound of the explosion was deafening and Clark felt the burn of the radiation as the bullet sailed over both their heads and embedded itself into the wall in an explosion of plaster and brickwork. Silence followed. All Clark could hear was the sound of his heart beating, his breathing as he dragged oxygen into his lungs and the warm solidness of his father against him.

"Clark? …. Jonathan! Oh my God, what happened?" Clark heard Martha's panicked voice and it was then that he allowed himself to open his eyes. His dad lay beside him on the ground, half stunned. Clark sat up, turned and looked around. The prospective thief was gone. He looked down at his chest and all he saw was the shirt he'd pulled on that day, no blood. He smiled. He then looked up at his mom and smiled some more.

"I don't know, it all happened so fast, but I think Clark just saved my life" Jonathan replied, sitting up beside his son. Martha's concerned gaze returned to her son.

"Are you okay?" Clark got to his feet, turned and helped his father upright.

"Someone tried to rob the Talon. Dad walked in and I think scared him off" Again Clark looked around, but there was no one else in the store. Martha sighed raggedly. She wrapped her arms around her son and hugged him tightly.

"I could've lost you both" she breathed.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10:**

Christmas passed as it usually did on the Kent farm, with tradition and without real ceremony but this year Clark appreciated it a little bit more. He watched his parents interact and saw their deep love for each other with his own eyes and it comforted and reassured him. They were the two sides of one coin; one couldn't exist without the other.

He couldn't explain what had happened, he still wasn't sure whether it had been real or just an elaborate dream. It had felt too real at the time and all too terrifying to consider. He couldn't really talk about it with anyone for fear of being considered crazy but dream or not, it had made him take stock and think.

"Penny for them"

Clark's head snapped up at the familiar soft voice and he saw Lana standing at the top of the staircase. She was smiling and he remembered the Lana of his dream, frightened, self-loathing and saw that this girl was a million miles away from that scenario. He smiled and rose from the couch that had been the base of his meanderings.

"Hey Lana" he greeted, smiling. She walked towards him and immediately his eyes were drawn to her left hand, the solitaire diamond glinting in the winter sunlight. He realised then that it didn't hurt any more. Lana had made her choice and surprisingly, he was okay with it. She stood in front of him and looked up at him, staring into his eyes for a moment that warmed him.

"We didn't get a chance to talk much the other night and I got the impression that my…our news took you by surprise" she glanced down at her engagement ring and then back up at his face.

"You don't have to explain anything to me Lana. You're in love, you're getting married and most important, you're happy," he told her. She blinked in surprise.

"But given our history…"

"That's the past Lana, your future is with Jason. He loves you" Lana just stared at him. She looked genuinely puzzled at his words and he bit back a smile.

"Wow…" He allowed the smile to bloom.

"Not the reaction you were expecting, huh? I've had time to think…about a lot of things. You were my first love Lana, and I'll always remember that but as time moves on, so do people and the most important thing I wish for you at the moment is to be happy" she just looked up into his eyes.

"Thank you Clark" he smiled softly, shrugging his shoulders.

"It's something I should've said a while ago. I'm really happy that things are working out for you and Jason, I really am"

Hurricane Chloe decided to pay a visit a couple of days later and he was genuinely glad to see her. He watched her park her fire engine red VW bug outside of the house and almost bounce towards him. She looked very seasonal in a bright red knee length over coat and beret style hat that went well with her colouring and her personality. Her smile, as always, was huge and welcoming and as she got closer to him, she flung her arms around him and hugged him.

"I'm sorry I'm late with this, but Happy Christmas Clark!" she told him and he smiled and looked into her green eyes.

"Metropolis too much fun for a phone call?" he replied and the smile briefly flickered. He grinned.

"Kidding Chlo'. How was your holiday?" he opened the kitchen door and stood to one side as she preceded him into the hallway, discarding her coat and hat along the way, dumping them into his arms as she always did. He didn't get irritated this time, just hung them over the banister as he always did. She turned her head and smiled.

"We had a great time, parties, presents, mistletoe, what's there not to love?"

"Lois not visiting?" the cousins were normally glued at the hip. Clark followed Chloe into the kitchen area.

"No. She's spending a couple of days with her father, let's see how long that little reunion lasts. She's been in a weird mood the last couple of days" She sat at the kitchen table and watched Clark rescue a couple of mugs and pour hot coffee into both of them. He placed one in front of her and she smiled her thanks.

"Chloe, Lois has always been weird" he teased and smiled as she rolled her eyes.

"All I know is that she had a really weird dream just before Christmas but she won't tell me what it was about".

'Join the club' Clark wanted to say.

"Maybe she just overdosed on the Christmas spirit" he replied and Chloe just grinned at him. She began to regale him with tales of life at college in her own inimitable and breathless manner and Clark listened, and just appreciated her, as he always did.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11:**

Lex was throwing a New Years Eve party at the mansion and everyone was attending. Well almost everyone, his parents had passed on the invitation, telling Clark that they'd prefer to herald the New Year in alone. Clark stood in his loft, in front of the tall mirror and just stared at his reflection. He wore a soft cotton shirt in a gentle sky-blue shade and chino's. He sighed. He was seeing in another New Year alone. He swallowed against the bitterness that rose inside of him.

"Clark?" he spun around and saw her standing at the top of the staircase. His eyes widened in amazement.

"I thought you were a…"

"Dream? No Clark, what you experienced was real, it happened" she stood in front of him, scanned his face and she smiled.

"What are you doing here?" Clark asked. The smile didn't fade.

"Saying goodbye. You know, you made the right decision in coming back. This world needs you Clark, whether you realise it or not but it does" he stared at her, spell-bound.

"How do you know all of this? You haven't even told me your name"

"You know who I am, deep inside here, you know" she placed her hand over his chest, over his heart.

"Clark? You have a minute son?" his father's voice was loud and Clark flinched. He turned his head.

"Sure, be there ina second!" he turned his head back and he was alone, she'd vanished. Wide eyed, he spun around, wondering where she could've gone to so quickly. It was as though she'd never been there in the first place. He sighed and shoved his hands in his pockets and they stilled when his fingers came into contact with something solid; something small. He withdrew it and looked at it. It was a ring. It was gold, broad with a round green stone in its centre. He'd seen this ring before, only once before and all of a sudden his breath whooshed out of him and his knees weakened. He sat down on the floor with a heavy thump, staring at the ring in disbelief.

_"You know who I am,"_her voice whispered through his brain. He frowned and then swallowed, his heart thudding in his chest. He clenched his fist around the ring and shot to his feet. No. This couldn't be right…

"Lara!…Lara!" he shouted and ran into the centre of his den, still calling her name. Silence greeted him; he knew she'd gone. He took a deep breath and slowly exhaled, ever mindful of the little sob that escaped at the same time. He looked down at the ring again. He closed his fingers around it. Went to see what his father needed him for and wondered all the same…

**END.**


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